


The diverse breed of assholes

by Gruntled_bicyclops



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Black Romance, M/M, don't come into this expecting a oneshot!!!, slow burn fic ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6848080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gruntled_bicyclops/pseuds/Gruntled_bicyclops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slow burn fic, for my incredibly specific relationship interaction and au.<br/>John Egbert is attending a boarding school in Texas, trying to keep his stress levels under the hood. The issue is that his roommate is Dirk Strider, who is a major fucking dickwad.<br/>It's focusing mainly on their interactions, not really on their relationship. I might set up this au, then do more one-shots on the side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. August: Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a pretty slow worker but w/e. I love me some blackrom dirkjohn B^)

Students are a diverse breed. Anyone is. For instance, upon finding out that they’d been accepted into one of the most prestigious boarding schools in Texas; some people may be elated. Considering that this was for their final year, some could be anxious. For some, such a move could be mundane at this point.

 

John Egbert was one of the excited. A very excited boy, that unsurprisingly carried the disappointment and sadness from when he initially found out, John wanted to throw a fit. He wanted to do all the rebellious teenager things. But, things simmered. It was really a bittersweet moment when he first stepped onto the threshold of his new home for the year.

 

Who was John Egbert?

It wasn’t a question that he asked voluntarily, sitting at his computer weeks prior. Coming to a new school, applying for scholarships - it was fairly mundane, as questions of that calibre arrive. How was it that his pages stayed blank, and his train of thought was so linear, yet his notes seemed to cram themselves into each space, with room for his doodles in the edges? He seemed like a boy that would fit any cookie cutter - kind, friendly, studious, neat, energetic. He did, however, have a side of ‘undesirable’ traits, he knew. Lazy, prone to selfishness, impulsive, gullible, disorganised with notes and distracted by doodles. Stupid. Vain. Lacking skill or grace in just about anything! John wasn’t fond of introspection, and he wasn’t fond of reflection. it was the unique agony of essay writing. He filled his pages with rambling, awkwardly worded paragraphs that he hoped satisfied their needs - he wondered if anyone else in the school had the unique skill of bullshitting. John Egbert was a boy that tried his best and occasionally stretched thin. This didn’t occur to him as he grabbed a flyer for the school's coding club.

 

“Who’s John Egbert?”

Dirk tried to ask the closest teacher, but all he got was a shrug and a hum. Roommates with a guy with no reputation - that was encouraging. Lists of possible scripts to follow momentarily flickered in Dirk’s conscious mind. Sanguine, auspicious, propitious. A small habit from hours of boredom, reading every book available and memorising the difficult ones for an impression on fellow classmates. And to be fair, he was impressive, initially. Whatever there was to do, Dirk tried his best to be the pinnacle. But who gave a shit what people thought about him? He was just a dude, proving his superiority over everything due to extreme boredom and difficulty with attention spans. Rose called it depression, Dirk called it a ridiculous thing not to bother naming. The point was that this would prove slightly more difficult; this was a new school for him to attend, and it had potential to prove more difficult to adjust.

Texas was just Dirk’s latest abode - he’d resided in Germany, briefly sojourned in New York, visited LA, stopped in Seattle, and stayed in Australia, to name some. His brother toured and worked, keeping objectively close. The pair existed within each other’s sphere’s, even if some (read: many) found many things to question about Dave’s lifestyle. It didn’t matter, Dirk thought idly; Dave Strider was a reputable film maker, who paid for anything Dirk dreamt of, and gave him complete control of his destiny. So much control that Dirk’s only thought when he began boarding was how interesting it would be to have a roommate, and a wonder of what rules to follow.

 

Dirk hadn’t noticed when his brother’s visits began to dwindle, only realising when he’d been two months without seeing his only family. He’d dug himself deep into this trench of problematic decisions, and subsequent isolation; he was going to see it through. Asking for anything was just too easy. Dirk planned, scripted, reviewed, organised, orchestrated, engineered. He was perfectly fine with this. He knew he was enough for his brother. He knew that Dave’s work was vastely more important than a little bit of separation anxiety, and having bells and systems to remind Dirk when to eat and what time it was would prove helpful. After his first year with a roommate, annoyed, overly-supportive parents insisted that Dirk be placed on his own. Dirk had no arguments for that, he was young. Besides, having a room to himself was better for his equipment. Now Dirk was mature, even more suitable for a roommate, and attending a new school, with new people. He had plenty to look forward to this year.

 

John was mildly excited, at one point. An inter-state move, flying for the first time with his father. Things popped up, as they do, and it was a few days later that John would be climbing onto the ship on his own. There was one seat left on the plane, Dad would fly another. This was beside the point.

The move was a blur, one that never would feel well-planned or well-timed. It left John spinning, but of course still making sure that he gave all of his friends at school a heartfelt goodbye and a hug. He would text them. But for now, it was up to him to keep his mind on all of the new friends he would have this year! A roommate. John would have a roommate, someone to spend all of his time with.

Maybe he’d have a roommate that likes the same movies as him, or has really interesting hobbies, or his roommate would be a veteran of the school, and show John what all the best clubs are - he didn’t have any at his old school -  or Maybe it would be like a giant sleepover, and they’d be good friends! Most likely, John would get sick of it and roll his eyes at them slightly more often than usual.

 

There it was. Their room. Pristine, shining wood floors - with a healthy dose of scuff marks - well-made beds, a large room, two desks, lamps, lights, a fan, a window overlooking, well. The park. They were  Fuck, John must’ve skipped that part when reading. He didn’t know boarders shared rooms! How was he meant to have a sense of privacy if he was never alone? Privacy is very important. Maybe his roommate got that, and they could...work something out? Dammit, there was no way they weren’t going to be constantly seeing each other, was there? Oh well. That just meant that they’d better make good friends!

 

“Hey, I'm John!” John leaned back on his arms, staring up at his new roommate. Said roommate was looking at him back. John couldn't know for sure, he only knew when he pointedly turned his face away from John, just so he knew he was being ignored. Wow, a lot of sass from an anime-shade wearing tool. John sniffed and worked on getting his shoes off, and grabbing the most essential pieces from his bag. A black tank top, dark skinny jeans, fingerless leather gloves...this guy looked pretty cool, if not also a total jackass. But hey, who was John to criticise a roommate that decided to wear dark clothes in the heat and thought that acting like an elitist was a good way to start a possible friendship with his roommate! Just a guy that had better social graces than some cashed up, cowboy-sounding, objectively sophisticated asshole. Maybe this guy just had a bad flight.

 

His new roommate was attractive. It didn't matter which viewpoint you took, Dirk could fully foresee that he was going to be popular for many reasons. What a shame their first introduction was via a table of names, and a contract thrust into Dirk’s hands. John’s voice was too grating for someone who _clearly_ had more jobs to do.

“Dirk,” He placed the contract on the foot of John’s bed, sizing up their arrangements as he spoke. “John Egbert, who forgot to sign this in his excitement to be bunking in the hotbox of teenage hormones that this building will surely become.”

Dirk was very much sure that he knew how to crack this nut. Ask nicely, take no shit, show off enough that no one would try to fuck with him.

 

“Oh fucking hell. Are you seriously planning on doing this on the first day?” Dirk griped, massaging his fingers against his temples. They were standing in the centre of their pristine dorm, bags pooled around their ankles like freshly shucked corn husks left by some goddamn doltish corn-handler, waiting to be swept away to create fashionable ‘think pieces’ on recycling by the hippies down the road that wear shirts made of layers of paper lunch bags. Why weren’t these corn husks yet to be utilised by the downtrodden tailors? A straightforward explanation. Apparently, his new roommate was a pedantic asswipe that wanted to have a pointlessly sturdier desk. Dirk suspected that the previous owner of the space had been endowed. John looked tired. That didn’t mean that Dirk took any pity on him, though he hoped to offer this speculation the next time they spoke.

“I’m not _planning_ anything. I’m just saying, my bags are already on it, and I was the first one in the room, and I’m less inclined to move my things now that you’ve already called me fascinating specimen of the flaws in Christianity! I’m not a charity case!” John stamped his foot.

Perhaps it looked a little immature. Perhaps it was a little immature. Who cares! John had decided to ride the latest, cheapest possible flight to Texas as possible, and as a result he’d had an uncomfortable flight. Who knew what it was? Maybe it was the elderly person in front of him stretching the chair as far back as it could go. Maybe it was the hairy foot encroaching upon his armrest. Or the kid beside him, who spilled their juice on John and cried when they thought he was mad. Or the fact that just when he began to sleep, someone would take to the bathroom just two rows behind him, and wake him up with his heart in his throat. He may have not travelled a lot, but this whole experience had been so much more cramped than he’d expected. After all, what sort of technology does it take to flush a toilet that requires the sound barrier to be broken?

“Yeah. Listen, I get that you want to get your rest. I was totally fine with that, except for the fact that I am going to require the desk. The desk is sturdier, and you’re not going to need it for anything else other than to load up your Cheesy-70’s-Porn-Mobile onto. Yes, I saw your computer when I arrived. Because, I was the one that had to sign on our names and grab the contracts. You noticed I was late, right? Apparently I look more responsible than you. Or at least less of a ditz.”

“I cannot be-LIEVE this! Just give me the fucking bed, you are such a dick!”

“Watch it John. Christian school. Don’t wanna be smited, do you? Given detention by the nuns, or priests, or whatever the fuck they’ve got here.”

“They’re called teachers, geez. Whatever. Can I lay down yet, or not?”

“When you move your bags off of the desk, clear out the space near my side. I’m not letting you touch a single atom of this primo shit. It's hard enough to smuggle in the basics, you know I've had to give up my soldering to the damn school's resources, as if it'll be safer if i'm working within a room with walls made of plywood. Between the dog-eared nature of those books you just unloaded on us and your computer, you probably think that my shit is some priceless alien technology. If you wanna have a look, ask me. Don't touch my side of the room.”

“Are you one of those roommates that puts duct tape down the middle of the room? Use your own.” John kicked his bags over to his side, before dropping his glasses onto the floor and flopping into the bed.

“You’ve got duct tape? Well shit, that’s gotta be forbidden. Don’t want it to be given to any uniform-exhausted students to go for a desperate attempt at a wax-job on budget for this overblown opportunity. Or maybe any sexuality-exploring students to explore.”

Dirk was already working on dragging his desk over the carpet, blocking the door in the meantime. God, wasn’t John going to be having any rest today? “Feel free to peep up my flexing muscles while I’m going all Jean ValJean on this motherfucker.”

“You wish. I’m blind, bro. Have fun wearing yourself out, I’m looking forward to sleeping.”

“Have fun sleeping for all of an hour before running downstairs for the communal dinner.”

“Fuck!”

Well, introductions went swimmingly.

 

Going to dinner introduced them to other boarders. A girl invited Dirk over - they must’ve been friends, John idly wondered if Dirk was actually new at all. John managed to find a seat with a messy haired boy that raised an eyebrow at him in a look that John figured could only mean, ‘C’mon buddy! Sit over here!’. Strangely enough, as soon as John sat, he was assailed by the messy-haired friend beside him. John barely had time to answer, waiting for the crowds to ebb, and he could grab his dinner.

“Hey! What’s that in your hair? Hair doesn’t really curve like that naturally. Are you one of those guys that obsesses over his hair? God, I hope not! I hate it when people care so much about ‘hygiene’. I had a campmate that used mosquito spray inside the tent, I got an  _ absurdly _ intense blood nose. It was hilarious when I stepped out of the tent, all I could smell was tin for a few days! I think you’ll get along with one of our buddies. He doesn’t care about his look either.”

Wow. They were a total jerk! It was annoying, but John decided to reason that he just had to deal with it for now. Once school began, he could make friends, and he wouldn’t have to bother trying to be friendly to this person! He just decided to smile brightly, looking directly at the acne-troubled boy instead. It was apparent that he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

“Hey! I’m John. I just moved down here from Washington, I have to say that I’m really disappointed by the heat, huh? Haha. Have you been here before? I wanted to ask whether we have to move at the end of the year.”

“Holy shit, neither of you shut up, do you? I cannot believe I have the sorry misfortune to fail finding a single fucking person that doesn’t feel like they’re the most important person in the goddamn conversation.”

The dinner continued with similar disdain and cheer. When the night finally finished, everyone in the room was happy to have it over. John practically fell into his bed, falling asleep nuzzling the pillows.

 

His nose was glunky. Ew. John rolled out of the bed and padded for the bathroom, stretching and hopping into the shower. What immediately ensued was his broken screaming, tangling the occupant in the shower curtain - who was still very confused and agitated - before quickly stumbling out of the room and laying on his bed in mortification.

Dirk didn’t really have a regular sleep schedule. He caught naps between all of his classes, and while a school schedule definitely forced him to sleep within a certain parameter, he just had a bit of a habit of finding ways of dancing  _ out _ of them. Work until 3 am, sleep until 7, put in his eye drops, moisturizer, eye cream, lip cream, marked off the day in the calendar, mentally listed the things to do today, and got in the shower, to shave. He had a very set system, perfectly accounting for the free will he relished. Squeezing out his dreads again, Dirk wondered idly if he was hypervigilant, like one of his early teachers commented. No, that couldn’t be it. He was just  _ extra _ vigilant of losing things. And, he was extra vigilant of anything that could make him damaged, like flaky skin, or a dry mouth. And he just really liked his hair. He certainly made sure to ignore plenty of things. This was obvious, because he currently had a hand sliding up the curtain and yanking; the events, previously in slow motion, were now happening all at once. Dirk was tangled up in a curtain. He was holding this curtain in confusion. There was a door slamming. Someone was shouting, Dirk was unsure who. Now, it was easy to figure out what happened, but it didn’t make any of it less mind-boggling. Cautiously, Dirk untangled himself from the curtain and continued with his morning regimen, not without calling out.

“Does this mean that changing in the bedroom is out of the question?”

“Oh my god.”


	2. September: Ground Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have their first day of school. They're introduced to ppl from their classes, turns out even when they're ignoring each other it's still impossible not to argue. They need to settle things and chill everyone out.

Dirk flinched when he felt a hand on his foot, sticking out over the edge of his bed. “I’m first one in the shower. I know how long your morning schedule is, I’m going to kick your ass if you gripe that I got you late for class.”  
He smiled to himself just slightly after blindly throwing his pillow, and hearing the successful mark hit. “As much as I relish this symbiotic-borderline-marriage of acceptance we have going on, if you wake me up with your Washington-trademarked ice hands I’m going to aim for your face next time and knock those glasses to shards.”  
  “Was that relish as in the liking, the hating, or the condiment?”  
“Up to you.” Dirk sighed and sat up, checking the clock. 5:30am. Dammit, he wouldn’t have time for a shower, unless he was willing to cut the rest of his morning routine short. Cold wood met his feet, and he ran a hand through his hair as he began the motions on 3 hours of proper sleep. He’d be napping during lunch today. As the minutes stretched by, Dirk and John, like many others, trooped to the dining hall, in an ode to the uniform.

Breakfast was such bullshit. If eating before school was such an issue, why the fuck didn’t they just make the day start later? Everyone thought it. John eventually had his hair tamed in the perfect spikes he loved, rubbing at his eyes and stumbling downstairs to pick his breakfast for the day.

Their room was definitely not as organised as it once was. It had taken them all of 15 days before they split the tape down the middle of the dorm room - it was almost commendable the amount of time they’d spent. Mounting tensions, raised teeth, creative juices used on increasing insults, and Dirk had smuggled in duct tape to split down the room while John was out, neatly placing John’s things in even piles on his bed - passive aggression? Perhaps. Dirk didn’t bother cleaning up the metric fuckton of things that he had, just removed everything over the perfect line. It was so unfair, he needed a storage spot. Or a second room.

Cream walls had gotten adorned in their various posters. John had actually complimented Dirk on his taste! Dirk returned the compliment by telling him that he very dearly wished he was able. Thought that counts, right? Their polished wood floor had scuff marks from the various equipment that Dirk decided to move around. John’s books were often strewn around the room from the various poses he took when studying. Sometimes Dirk would spot him perched beside their window, leaning on the wall; John would sit on the edge of his bed, or hang upside down off of it, tongue sticking out slightly as he played games on his devices. John would sit in an office chair at his ‘computer’, or just lay across the ground in various states of movement. That was the reason they split the room like they did. Dirk did not want one of John’s wayward, socked feet bumping against his machinery and knocking it all out of whack.

Below the floors, boarders drearily welcomed new students, however late they were. John was glad to have an amicable first impression - even if her sister threatened him with her fork for going for the bacon.

The class was in a chaotic state. John grimaced when the messy haired person he now knew as Theresa - or Teratai, depending on who you asked - beckoned him over. A beaming girl was beside them. Roxy, right? Oh! And it was the nearest seat to his dinner buddy, what a great turn of events! Sitting down, John surveyed the room. Beside him, a cute girl that covered her margins in doodles. Beside her was the previously mentioned bud, who glared when John poked him with his ruler, grinning.  
  “So! You’re Dirk’s roommate, right? You related to Jake? He’s a friend of ours - he used to go here. Oh! I’m in charge of networking, do you want me to add you to the group page? ...it’s not well-advertised yet, but I’ll spam it with study and homework tricks. And school events. And school memes before they get taken down.”  
Roxy was amicable, cheeks dimpling as she smiled. She was definitely going to be a great help to have.  
  “Oh, I’m John. That’d be really helpful, thanks. I usually just mark assignments on my calendar, but it doesn’t really account for time, you know? I’m actually going to be joining a few clubs, I’ll probably be in the study team too.” Roxy snorted.  
  “Johnny Jehonny! Didn’t Dirk tell you that hanging things on the wall is illegal? If you take the poster down with blue tack, it damages the paint, and every two years they get it repainted. I asked the teachers if the leaving kids should just pitch in and pay, but that’d be too hard to chase down.” She sighed wistfully. “No one trusts kids!”  
John was gobsmacked. He sighed in annoyance, flicking a glance at Dirk from across the room. Dirk just raised an eyebrow, and continued to sketch in his art book. The teacher arrived, and class began.  
It was surprising what you learned about people from a class. No one seemed enthusiastic about the syllabus, certain students like Karl, Khandan, and Rose were all interested in the short story term of learning, though any approval of the novels were thwarted by the disinterest of the rest of the class. Dirk had seemed to make friends with the rat-tailed girl beside him. How? John had no idea. Rose and Khandan were best friends, that whispered and raised neat eyebrows at everyone in the class. Roxy and John got along like lifelong chums, and Karl was a real sweet guy. Group projects were an easy time to learn about people.

“You know, John, everyone just seems to like you. Hell, I like you even though you tried to pepper my water during track. Karl likes you, even though you were    an ‘airy, overblown tool that decided to grace us with his shit-scented hot air’.”   
Khandan smirked over the boy, who was pulling his eyelids down at her. They were adorable!  
“John just has a sense of magnetism about him, doesn’t he? I wonder how that annoying sense of enthusiasm rubs against Dirk.” Rose leaned against her shoulder, looking at John in question.  
  “You guys don’t need to worry,” John rolled his eyes. “We keep in a peaceful silence. He’s not as creative as Karl with his insults, but just as needless.”  
That earned a whistle between Rose and Khandan - darn these broads with their wily subtleties! One leaned forward, the other back, and twisted their heads back to Dirk in precision. This was all Dirk needed to know that his ears should’ve been fucking scorching right now. Oh, the iron shackles of a teacher’s sensitive ears. Less so sensitive, more so aware of the fact when teenagers are shouting at each other from across the room. John was talking casually, Karl was gesturing as he attempted to write on John’s portion of the A5 sheet of paper. He could listen without diverting his focus on his group’s various interpretations if he could just skirt a little closer, focus a little bit more.  
The teacher left, granting Roxy watch of the room. They may have been graduating that year, but god knew that they were a rowdy crowd. Dirk got up, strolling over to the other table. Roxy tucked an end of her light scarf in his back pocket, miming as though there was a leash. Dirk sped up, tucking his hands into his pockets. John was laughing and poking fun at Karl. He couldn’t salvage a lost conversation, shit. Whatever, may as well do something in the class.  
  “So. Girl. That was symbolism for virginity, right? I mean, it’s totally heavy handed and fuckin’ old school, but it’s pretty obvious nonetheless.”  
John screwed his eyebrows together. “How the hell did you get that? Dude, I have no idea how you got that. Not everyone here is as hormone-riddled as you, geez.”  
  “So, what’s your guess then? Y’know, because this isn’t a designated gossip session. Save it for study. We’re sort of sick of listening.”  
“I dunno, it’s talking about choices? College? I don’t know, but your idea’s just stupid. Look, just go cluck back with your friends, I’m still trying to work out why you think this is about sex.”  
  “What isn’t about sex, John? Seriously, you gotta give me something to work with. It’s a perfectly valid argument, and I’m really trying my best here not to get by on my good looks.”  
John opened his mouth to argue, but quickly began smacking Dirk’s hand. He turned, strolling slowly back to his seat as the teacher entered. She sighed, quietly chastising the boy as he sat back down and looked around at his group.  
  “I’m sure that you all had a chance to share your ideas, then. Another 10 minutes, no music, quiet talking to your group members only.”  
Khandan smiled to herself. Mina nudged Dirk and pointed at the teacher before sticking her tongue in her cheek repeatedly. Horace sniggered and shook his head, glancing at the teacher to make sure they got away clean. John tossed a paper ball at Dirk’s head, rebutted with a subtle middle finger. John stuck his tongue out and glanced at the teacher one more time, before leaning forward and hissing as quietly as he could, chastising Dirk and telling him to focus on work instead of their gossip. He returned to the rest of his group, muttering and telling them about Dirk’s antics - he moved John’s stuff! It was nice, but rude! So rude.

The next week, Dirk and John’s competition to get away with more, get the last word, and act like the sane adult that neither one of them were managed to get them under the watchful eye of the teacher. Raising their hands to speak in the lawless class was forgotten as it devolved into a two-person debate.  
  “You were doing this last week, the school doesn’t even have compulsory sex ed, you think they’re going to put in sex in a short story?”  
  “I didn’t say sex, I said that they’re trying to disillusion the idea that you can feel absurd and illogical about someone and have it still end up with a positive relationship. It’s supported by the fact that the team captain seems like a sport’s legend - who we’re meant to believe are the pinaccle of society - but it turns out he’s a boozer with a need to do better. But, if you’re trying to say that they don’t want us to believe that strong emotions and making commitments end up solely in disappointment and confusion, I would agree. It’s just like an after-school program.”  
“What? That’s so dumb! You’re reading way too far into this, it’s a story about how we shouldn’t look up to people more than we respect ourselves!”  
  “You can’t cite the story as evidence! That’s just a surface level reading, we should be more advanced than this and accept it as more than just some overdone Icarus bullshit.”  
  “What’s even the difference? I think you’re just trying to get the most words in so people just assume you know best!”  
  “What’s the point of having an argument if you don’t back it up? We can’t all just assume that someone else will traipse along and explain it on our behalf, and act like we knew what they were talking about. Why do you think that the school’s trying to instill the constant stress of an outside world if we aren’t meant to be ready to hit the ground running? You gotta actually fucking stand for something more than just your whims.”  
“Boys!” The teacher leaned over the table, eyes piercing to make the two combatants into crestfallen children with sunken shoulders and sullen expressions.        “Obviously, we are meant to be discussing the storyline. I admire your passion for context, however inappropriate, Dirk, but both of you are going outside. And if I hear a single sound before I am situated in front of you, you will be facing more than just a smack on the wrist. And never swear in this class, unless it is part of our reading material.”  
John shook his head at Dirk, who ignored him and stepped outside. Outside, students stared at the silent, serious and smug boys. Dirk crossed his arms and sat down on top of a table. John pointedly sat down on the floor. There was a long and heavy silence from him, though not without trying from Dirk.  
  “It's pretty goddamn irritating to get in an argument with you, you know. It's like talking to a brick wall. A naive brick wall whose voice occasionally breaks. See, silence isn't exactly a way of fixing anything either. I'm gonna talk if I want to. Listening to you argue is weird, you know. You've got passion, albeit confusingly placed, and at the same time you aren't willing to defend whatever you think. What the fuck’s up with that? Everyone has opinions. Even I have opinions.”  
  “Gee, you think?”  
  “Oh, come on. I was just defending myself, I wasn't being ridiculous.”  
  “Yes, you were. I'm surprised you aren't aware.”  
  “I feel like you don't argue a lot. I don't actually, either, but I gotta say it's pretty damn relaxing to flex those vocal muscles you know? You've got that flare in your voice, you know what I mean. You don't argue a lot, it's really fun to have that fire.”  
  “Woah. Alright, jackass. Don't you tell me what I think or feel or say! You’re a pretty cool guy and all, but seriously, I was just trying to do my work in there, and you always rope me into it.”  
  “Rope you into it? All I did was offer my opinion, and you scoffed.”  
  “So you didn’t have to call me out in front of everyone! Honestly, it’s just like the last time. It’s like you’re trying to get me in trouble.”  
  “You were the one talking about me in class.”  
  “This is what it’s about? God, I didn’t say anything!”  
  “Am I allowed to know what you were talking about, then?”  
John responded with a middle finger, crossing his arms and turning his back on Dirk.

When John returned back to the boarding house, Dirk was sitting there at his desk, drumming his fingers on the desk.  
  “Well what’s up your ass?”  
  “Nothing. I'm just a little peeved that they checked my shit.”  
John looked around. Oh, that's what was different! Their posters were removed.  
  “Seriously? Why did they do that?”  
  “Maybe someone snitched on us. God knows they better not fucking plan on doing this regularly. Anyone you know seem like a stick in the mud?”  
“Whatever. Fuck off.” John rolled his eyes, looking at the pile of posters. He tried to life the top poster, but the one below caught on it. “What the fuck? There’s still blue tack on these, that's not good.”  
Dirk raised his head, mouth pulled at the corner. “Well shit man, I tried to divide them into yours and mine. Didn't realise you used shitloads of blue tack to hold your shrines to fucked up mouth breathers.”  
  “You know what? Shut the fuck up for a second, I can see your mouth opening. How about we just chill the fuck out, okay? I'm tired, I'm back from practice, and I just want to relax. When we leave this room, we promise not to talk to each other during class time. You don't touch my stuff, I don't touch yours, we put a brightly coloured tie on the bathroom door when it’s in use. If you get a girlfriend, or something, give me a heads up so I can find somewhere to hang out.”  
  “Do most people get this strange, tingling sensation when you take charge, John? I don't know what the fuck sort of club gets you breathless like that, but if you wanna bring your girlfriend back, don't bother telling me. I love making impressions. Anyway, why would I want a partner if I've got you trying to sneak into the bathroom with me?”  
  “It was once, Dirk, just use the tie! I don't wear my glasses in the mornings, and I just assume you're brushing your teeth or something with how long you spend in there!”  
  “And did you tell your friends about that?”  
  “No, because they'd chortle!”  
  “Chortle?”  
  “Chortle!”  
  “A downright guffaw.”  
  “Shut up, oh my god. Anyway, I was on the field. You know, some people do clubs that help physically? I go out there, and I get to use the equipment for shotput and javelin. I don't use the javelin, but we all go out at the same time. What do you do?”  
  “I go to the gym. It's cleaner, and more effective. Just wash your nasty ass and don't ask me for homework help.”

The rest of their day was surprisingly peaceful. A week later, and a parcel was given to them on the way in from dinner. Dirk had gone to Roxy’s dorm, surprisingly incurious to what it might be! John sat down to do his homework, unwrapping the parcel with anticipation and slight apprehension. Inside, in smooth, shining condition, were all of his posters. They were in better shape than John had delivered them in, after years of use! Dirk was a wily beast to track down in a hug, but John managed, and laughed airily as he reminded Dirk that He Really Didn’t Have To, and that I Really Wasn’t Upset, and Seriously, This Is So Unnecessary; even though John was ecstatic, mainly at the kindness of the gesture more than the gesture itself. Dirk was sweet!


End file.
